


That's the Ticket

by dustandroses



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Drug Use, First Time, M/M, Oz Magi, Season One fic, Toby's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-14 15:17:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1271227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustandroses/pseuds/dustandroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the real world becomes too much for him, Beecher finally takes a chance on something <i>he</i> wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's the Ticket

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tallios](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Tallios).



> **Notes:** Written for Tallios for the Live Journal community Oz Magi 2006.  
>  Originally posted Jan. 9, 2007.
> 
>  **My Prompt:**  
>  **Pairing:** Tobias Beecher/Ryan O'Reily  
>  **Keyword:** Heat  
>  **Canon or AU:** Canon  
>  **Special Requests:** Friendship that becomes an attraction then a relationship. No non-con, lots of snark, NC17

Toby stretched languidly, his arms raised above his head. He slipped down the wall to slump in an ungainly sprawl, his head propped up against Ryan’s shoulder, jostling Ryan's arm as he held the joint to his lips.

“Hey, watch it!” The thick smoke furled out of Ryan’s mouth, and he shrugged, knocking Toby’s head off his shoulder, then took another half a hit to fill his lungs back up again.

“Hey – Ryan.” Toby complained, sliding down even farther, blinking as his head landed with a dull thud on Ryan’s thigh. “What’d you do that for? I was comfortable.” He straightened his knee and his foot hit the leg of Ryan’s bunk, the hollow metal sounding with a thump. Toby liked that, so he repeated it, knocking his sneaker into metal and smiling at the muted sound.

He clumsily took the joint Ryan waved over him, blowing away the gray ash that threatened to land on his chest, watching it scatter with his breath. Nice. He took a deep toke and held his breath as he heard Ryan breathe out with a whoosh.

“Ah, yeah. That’s the ticket.”

Toby smiled to himself. He’d only been getting high with Ryan for a couple of months now, but that phrase had already come to represent a killer buzz and a chance to relax, as much as he could ever relax in this shithole.

He clutched what was left of the joint tight in his fingers and took another hit, letting the mind-numbing drug serve its purpose and sweep the thoughts of Vern Schillinger out of his brain. It might be only a temporary fix, but it was the most potent source of relief he’d found in this god-awful place.

He suddenly imagined some wraith-like creature made out of the smoke trailing off the end of the roach Ryan was prying out of his desensitized fingers. Imagined it slipping inside his brain with a scrub brush and a bucket of bleach, and setting to work, eradicating every stain this hell hole had ground into him. He wondered if it would take care of the taint on his soul at the same time.

He giggled as he imagined the commercial for _that_ particular product: "Tired of that pesky old tarnished soul? New Sin Away is guaranteed to get rid of the worst of those rusty, grimy stains. Who needs a priest? Try Sin Away today!"

The door opened and Toby sat up abruptly – whoa, head rush – then sighed with relied as one of the guys Ryan roomed with walked in and crossed over to his bunk. Ryan didn’t seem disturbed by this, but it always made Toby nervous that Ryan was in one of the rooms with more than two bunks in it, despite the fact that they’d never had any problems with any of his podmates. Ryan passed the roach back to Toby, who took it uncertainly.

He waited until the guy jumped up onto his bunk on the other side of the room, turned his back on the two of them and started reading a skin mag before Toby relaxed enough to take a toke off the roach. Ryan watched him, shaking his head.

“Relax, Beecher – not everyone in this place is a Nazi or a biker. Some people just don’t give a damn about you or Schillinger, so chill, and hand me that joint.” Toby handed it back to Ryan, a self-conscious grin on his face.

“Sorry – I’ve learned not to take things for granted around this place, you know?”

Ryan nodded. “Yeah, I know. You can’t afford to trust anybody around here. But with me? You don’t have to worry, we’re cool. Got that?”

Toby nodded, embarrassed that Ryan could see through him so easily. He shook his head when Ryan offered what was left of the joint back to him. “I just burn my fingers when it gets that small.”

“Oh, yeah? Here.” Ryan kept the roach, grabbing it with his fingernails, and held it up to Toby’s face. He wiggled his eyebrows like Groucho Marx - “Here, suck on this, man.”

Toby barked out a brief laugh before clamping his hand over his mouth in shock. He glanced over to the guy on the bunk, who hadn’t moved, then back to Ryan who had a big grin on his face.

“C’mon, Beecher – last chance…suck it or loose it!”

Toby rolled his eyes, grabbing Ryan's hand, pulling the roach closer to his mouth to take a hit. Ryan looked on approvingly. “That’s better.”

He watched as Ryan finished it off, settling himself against the wall again, slowly letting the last of the smoke out as he sighed.

“Know what I miss, O’Reily? Privacy. It’s such a simple concept, and so fundamental that until it’s gone, you never even notice it. But once you don’t have it any more, you realize exactly how important it really is.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean. Nothing like jerking off with a dozen guys listening in on you. At least you’ve only got one other guy in the room. You’ve got _some_ privacy. Although now that I think of it, I bet you’d rather be in one of these rooms, huh?”

“Wanna switch? I’d trade bunks with you in a second.”

“You’ve got to be crazy. I ain’t rooming with that Nazi fuck. No fuckin’ way.”

“Yeah but he’d never try and prag _you_. You wouldn’t have to do – well, you know.”

“C’mon Beecher. You promised me you’d never talk about that crap with me. Makes me sick to even think about it. No hasslin’ the buzz, man.”

“I remembered. I stopped, didn’t I?”

“Well change the subject.”

“Okay, okay. I told you what I miss. What do you miss?”

“Too many things. Doritos. Beer. Smokes - I really miss my smokes. And pussy. That’s what I miss the most. Pussy.”

“Not Shannon? Just _pussy_?”

“Shannon’s got pussy. A really nice one. Keeps it trimmed and neat – easier to eat that way, you know?”

"Ryan! Please."

"Oh, come on, Beecher. Ease up. You're not telling me you never ate any pussy. I don't believe you, man. You and your wife were married how long? And how many kids did you have? I mean you have to know something about it."

"No. Genevieve would never let me. She hated the thought of it. Said she’d never kiss me again if I did that.”

“No way. How the hell did you get three kids out of her if she was that uptight? Bet she demanded the missionary position, too, huh?” Ryan laughed as Toby shrugged. “She did, didn’t she? Fuck, Beecher. No blow jobs either, I’m betting. Right? Man, that sucks. Oh, no. Actually, I guess it doesn’t suck, does it?”

Ryan started to snigger, and Beecher felt the beginnings of a grin along with the flush of embarrassment he'd been fighting since Ryan had brought the subject up in the first place.

"I can't believe I'm talking about this."

Ryan reached down and adjusted himself. “Shit. I gotta _stop_ talking about this. Let's change the subject.”

They were interrupted by a rap on the door. They both started, but it was just another inmate, getting the attention of the guy with the girlie mag, trying to talk him into playing poker with him and his buddies. Beecher sighed with relief when the guy finally agreed, sliding the magazine under his pillow before he left the room without a glance in their direction.

“So what else do you miss?” Ryan watched the guy leave, then leaned back, his position echoing Beecher’s: leaning up against the wall, legs stretched out in front of him, staring at the far wall. “What else do you want? Besides not being here, I mean. That’s a given. What do you _really_ want?”

There was a pause as Toby thought that one out. There were many things he wanted, and sorting through them all to the important stuff wasn’t necessarily easy. But when it came to him, he wondered why he’d even had to think about it.

“I want to make up my own mind. Read a book because _I_ want to, not because someone else decided I should stay in the pod with nothing else to do. Watch what I want, when I want, _if_ I want. Not forced to watch inane game shows and stupid sitcoms because they’re the only thing Schillinger’s limited intellect can grasp. I want to decide for myself when I do my laundry, or go to the library, or the gym, or take a shower, or make a phone call. I just want a little autonomy in my life. I don’t think that’s too much to ask for. Do you?”

“No. No, I don’t.”

Ryan’s voice was quiet, and resigned, and maybe just a little bit bitter. Toby had intended the question to be a rhetorical one, and hadn’t been expecting a response at all, but that one- It sounded like the voice of someone who wished it were different. He could almost believe that Ryan really meant it. As if – if Ryan had the power to change things for the better – to rid Toby of the horror of Vern Schillinger, he would do it. Just for Toby.

Toby felt a flood of emotions run through him, surprised and grateful and disturbed all at the same time. He rolled his head to the side, so he could look at Ryan’s face. Ryan looked back at him, brow wrinkled, like he was wondering exactly what Toby was looking for.

“What?”

Toby just shook his head and stared into Ryan’s eyes. There was no way he could explain what he was feeling – he wasn’t even sure he understood it himself.

“Beecher, what?”

Toby moved his head closer, until they were almost too close to look at each other without their eyes crossing. Then he sighed and whispered, “I want it to be my decision. I want to decide who gets _this_. ”

He reached over, putting his hand on the nape of Ryan’s neck and pulled him in. The kiss was short and very tender, just the brush of dry lips against moist, and it seemed that Ryan was so surprised by it that he didn’t even try to pull away. Toby let his hand drop and leaned back against the wall again, as Ryan blinked fiercely and shook his head.

“What the fuck was that?”

Toby realized then exactly what he’d done, and he stood up quickly, his eyes wide with surprise, and started toward the door. He looked back as Ryan stood, then shook his head, backing up as he apologized. “Sorry. I’m sorry, Ryan. I – I just thought. It was…never mind. I’ll go now. Sorry.”

He turned around and left the room in a hurry, hitting the door loudly enough to attract the attention of the guys standing around outside the room. He was in a panic. He’d kissed Ryan O’Reily, and damned if he hadn’t wanted to do it. He realized with a shock that if he had the chance to, he’d do it again.

This was bad. His only friend and he’d screwed it up. Ryan was never going to talk to him again, and to be honest, he couldn’t blame him. Shit. Shit. _Shit._ He stumbled into his pod, grateful that he still had a few minutes before Schillinger returned from his meeting of the Brotherhood.

He curled up on his bunk, and tried to figure out how the hell he was ever going to explain what he’d done to Ryan.

* * *

When Ryan grabbed him the next day, and pulled Toby along into the storage closet Ryan called his ‘sales room,’ Toby was nervous. Very nervous. He’d thought long and hard the night before about everything that had happened with Ryan. He’d come up with some theories, and it all made sense to him.

He just didn’t know if Ryan would understand. And even if he did, that didn’t mean he’d accept it. Or would be willing to at least ignore it and move on, without ruining the one relationship he had in Oz that wasn’t based on fear or hatred. He just had to hope that they could get past this somehow.

He watched Ryan pace the small room, avoiding boxes of cleaning solution and scrub brushes and buckets full of dirty mops. His eyes moved constantly, always thinking; always tense, like a spring, coiled and ready to push him into action. Toby wondered why he’d never noticed it before. Ryan’s body just seemed poised, waiting for the moment when he needed to act.

“I ain’t mad at you, okay? I’m not gonna hurt you or anything. I just don’t get what you did. You _kissed_ me. Why would you do that? Don’t you get enough of that crap from Schillinger? I just don’t understand why you’d want more of that same thing.”

“No. Ryan. See, that’s the thing. What I get from you is so different from everything that bastard does to me.”

“I don’t want to fuck you.”

“That’s okay. Really. I just wanted something for me.” He paused. He’d expected Ryan to avoid him, and he'd thought he’d have to be the one to force this talk to try and win back Ryan’s trust. He wasn’t sure he could do this, but he knew he had to try.

“It’s hard to explain, Ryan. You and me – why do you let me hang out with you? You’re not making a profit off me. You don’t ask for money, you don’t ask for anything. You’re the only one in this damn place who doesn’t want something from me.

“The other inmates, they want me to plead their case to Schillinger or they want Schillinger to trust them because they did something for me. Some of them want to hurt me because I belong to Schillinger. Some of them want a piece of my ass. They all want something. Except you.”

“Yeah, I do. You looked over my appeal for me. I wanted something.”

“Wanted, Ryan. Past tense. That was months ago. These days, the only thing you ask me for is my time. The only thing I can think of is that you want _me_. ”

Ryan opened his mouth to object, but Toby knew what he was thinking and cut him off before he could even get the words out.

“No. Not that way. We hang out. You get high with other people; I’ve seen you do it. But you’re trying to get something from them and they want something from you.

“But me? You want to hang out with me. You want someone you can get high with and not worry about putting on a front, ‘cause I don’t care. I don’t care who you are or what you do. I just want someone who sees me. Not Schillinger’s prag. _Me_. You see me.”

“How do you know I’m not trying to use you to get to Schillinger?”

“He doesn’t want me to get high; all that does is get you into trouble. You know as much as I do that he would rip you a new asshole if he knew it was you that was supplying me with drugs. Maybe you're an adrenaline junkie and you like pissing Schillinger off and if that's the case, that's okay by me, because I like pissing him off too. Despite the pain it causes me. It's worth it. The only other reason you could be doing this is because you like me. You want me around. You give me a chance to be me. And I appreciate that.”

Ryan’s eyes narrowed and he advanced on Toby, pushing him back up against the door of the closet.

“Is that what that was? You were trying to _thank me_? What? You want to blow me to thank me? You want me to fuck you? Is that it? You want to pay me back?”

“No!” Toby pushed away the hand Ryan was using to hold him in place against the door, frustrated and unsure how to continue. But his stubborn will made him keep going, and he plunged back in, hoping that he could get through to Ryan somehow.

“No. I kissed you for purely selfish reasons. For once, there was something _I_ wanted. Something I wanted that I could have for _me._ Something that couldn’t be taken away. Schillinger has stolen every physical thing I have – everything my family has given me. He can violate my body and do whatever he wants, but he can’t take away the time I’ve spent with you. And the things you do for me. You bring me chocolate.”

He could tell that had surprised Ryan, at least until he thought it through.

“Yeah, okay. I bring you chocolate. But I make you share it with me.”

“Exactly. You do it for us. You and me. The time I spend with you is the only thing that Schillinger doesn’t own. The only thing that is all mine. And that makes me _yearn_ for more.”

Ryan crossed away again. Back to pacing – his long legs taking in the entire room in three steps before he had to turn and head back to Toby again.

“Why would you want that, though? You’ve told me how much you hate him. Why would you want another man to touch you that way? You’re not gay. What do you get out of that?”

“I get a chance to forget. I can forget that my body belongs to some Nazi fuck, and that I have no choice about it. I can't choose with him, but I can with you."

Ryan sat on a stack of boxes of gallon jugs of floor cleaner, and if he wasn’t so worried about getting this right, making Ryan realize exactly what was going through his mind, Toby would have laughed at the stunned expression on Ryan’s face. Maybe, just maybe he was seeing it. So he continued – pressing it home while he could.

“He never kisses me – not like that, anyway. A peck on the cheek, ‘How’s the little missus today?’ or ‘Honey, I’m home.’ That kind of crap. But what I gave you was my choice, and it wasn't like anything he's ever done to me."

Toby watched as Ryan’s face closed off. The little bit of him he’d been able to see through, the most Ryan ever let people see was gone. His stone face was back in place, and it sent a chill down Toby’s spine. It looked like he’d failed.

“I’m sorry, Ryan. I wanted something from you and took advantage. I understand that you're angry. If you don’t want to hang out with me anymore, I understand. And I want to say thank you for hearing me out. You didn't have to do that.”

He turned and put his hand on the doorknob, but before he could turn the knob, Ryan’s hand slapped down heavily on the door, holding it closed. Toby’s heart was pounding as he turned back to Ryan, not knowing what that meant. It could mean anything, and he refused to let himself hope. That only led to more pain.

Toby looked at Ryan then, and Ryan moved back a foot or so, to give himself room. He looked at the floor, the door behind Toby, all around, but not at him, and Toby couldn’t figure it out. So he just waited. And Ryan cleared his throat and finally started to talk.

“So this whole thing is kind of weird for me, you know? I mean – I understand it now. What you did – it makes sense. And well…I think I want you to stay. Hang out for a while. And maybe – I don’t know. Maybe we can talk about it. I don’t know. Maybe we can - do more. Maybe.”

Toby was afraid to say anything – afraid to interrupt Ryan, afraid to even breathe. Ryan turned then, and walked away, but he kept talking, and Toby didn’t move. Not a muscle.

“I never thought about it. Never – never wanted to – you know. With another guy, I mean. Never. But when you kissed me, it made me think; it’s just gonna be me and my right hand for one hell of a long time. I got 12 years before I can even _beg_ for parole. That’s a long time to never even – never even kiss. It’s hard to imagine. You know? Sometimes it drives me crazy, just thinking about it. So maybe… But let me think about it, okay? I’m not ready to – well, you know. I just need some time.”

Afraid to do anything to interrupt Ryan, to make him take it back, Toby finally managed to get a word out. “Okay.”

He leaned back against the door, slowly taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He looked away from Ryan, not wanting to spook him by staring, but nervous and anxious and unsure what to do next and praying so hard that he could act casually and not loose his nerve.

Finally Ryan looked up at him, and Toby froze – caught by Ryan’s eyes. He flushed bright red, and he knew that Ryan was imagining all sorts of things that he’d think Toby had been thinking. And he hadn’t been, but just the same, the slow, evil grin on Ryan’s face was too much and he had to drop his eyes or embarrass himself.

“You wanna get high?”

The relief was like cool water splashing over his face, calming him down, giving him focus. Yes. He could handle that. “Sure.” He winced a bit. His voice didn’t always sound that thin and uncertain, did it?

But Ryan didn’t seem to notice. He just pulled out a joint and lit up. “See? That’s what I like about you Beecher. You’re easy.”

* * *

Beecher leaned back against the cases of floor cleaner that he and Ryan were sitting next to and smiled. “This is nice, Ryan. Real nice. No nosy neighbors, no rude bikers, no asshole Aryans. A guy could get used to this. I can’t think of the last time I felt so comfortable and relaxed.”

Ryan grinned at him. “Well, yeah. You’re high as a fuckin’ kite, Beecher; of course you’re nice and relaxed.”

“But it’s not just the buzz, Ryan. This is quiet. Solitude. It’s just us. I like it here.”

“Yeah? I guess it’s not so bad.” His eyes tracked over the room. He shrugged. “Could be better, though. A few posters, a black light over the door there, some pillows on the floor.”

Beecher snorted. “If you throw in one of those little refrigerators and a hot plate, it sounds just like the dorm room of a friend of mine in undergrad.”

“Oh yeah? Throw in a bumper pool table, a dart board and a boombox, and it’s exactly like the game room in my brother Cyril’s old apartment.”

“Were the poster’s black velvet?”

“Nah, but they did glow in the dark.”

Beecher laughed and Ryan grinned at him, and turned a little, so he could lean up against the boxes sideways and watch Beecher as he laughed.

“I like that.”

“What?” Beecher glanced behind himself, trying to figure out what he was looking at.

“You, stupid. You don’t laugh that much. I like to see you laugh.”

He shrugged. “Not that much to laugh about here in Oz, now is there?”

“No, I guess you’re right about that. But you laugh for me.”

“I laugh with you. There’s a difference, isn’t there?”

“I don’t know. Maybe there is. But I like it, where ever it comes from. I think we both need to laugh more.”

Toby shrugged. “Okay.” Like it was that easy.

Ryan reached out his hand and traced the length of Toby’s jaw, and Toby noticed that his hand was shaking. He held his breath, almost afraid to move, as if the least little thing might scare Ryan away.

But Ryan leaned forward, and Toby couldn’t help but meet him halfway as Ryan’s hand slid down and around the back of his neck and their lips met in their second kiss. It was very much like their first one. Hesitant and soft, and barely there.

Toby couldn’t stop himself from moving closer, making the contact firmer as he closed his eyes and tilted his head to fit their mouths together the way they should. When Ryan pulled back, he stopped himself from following – worried about pushing for too much too soon. But before he could even open his eyes, Ryan was back.

This time the kiss was stronger, more solid – more real. When he felt the tip of Ryan’s tongue running along the edge of his lips, Toby opened his mouth to gasp in surprise and Ryan’s tongue moved in, hesitantly touching his own. Toby tilted his head again and moaned into the kiss, and Ryan must have taken that as a good sign, because he moved his hand up, stroking into Toby’s hair and holding the two of them even more firmly together as his tongue began to explore.

Toby felt a shiver run up his spine and realized he hadn’t felt this way in years. Like a kid on his first date – nervous and wondering if he should ask for more or just try for it and see how far he could get, and worried that if he pushed too far or too hard that he’d spoil it all and ruin everything.

But he couldn’t keep that train of thought going, not while sucking on Ryan's tongue, and gradually taking over the kiss. It seemed like Ryan wasn’t too upset to be on the receiving end of things for a while, so he just went with it, and told his mind to shut down and let him enjoy this while he could. And he was enjoying it. His insides were all fluttery and even if he wasn’t as nervous as he’d been before, he still couldn’t get himself to stop running hot and cold every time Ryan moaned.

Then Ryan tipped his head in the other direction and Ryan’s nose bumped against his glasses, almost knocking them right off his nose. Ryan pulled back, blinking and focused on Toby’s face, then grinned really widely and reached up and pulled the glasses off carefully.

“Here, let's get these out of the way.”

“Oh, yeah, right. That’s probably a good idea.” Toby wondered why Ryan wasn’t breathing as heavily as he was – maybe he wasn’t enjoying it as much. The grin on his face sure made it look like he was having a good time, though, and why was he worrying when he could be kissing Ryan?

So Toby pulled him back in. Ryan put both hands on his face, holding him still while he devoured Toby’s mouth. He realized then that Ryan was an even better kisser than he’d thought, and he’d actually thought he'd be a really good kisser to start with, so that was saying a whole hell of a lot.

 

When Ryan pulled back this time, he was breathing heavily, and Toby felt a stab of elation knowing he wasn’t the only one affected by all of this. Then Ryan was urging him to get up on his knees and before he knew it, he was straddling Ryan, legs on either side of his narrow hips, and Ryan was settling him in as he grinned again.

“Oh yeah. That’s more like it.” A short kiss. “That’s the ticket.”

Then Ryan was exploring his neck with his lips and his teeth, and Toby took a deep breath as he realized that he was going to have to warn Ryan not to leave any marks that Schillinger might find, and wasn’t that going to kill the mood? He pulled back slightly when the nips got more intense. It felt good, but he really couldn’t afford to advertise what he was doing here.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Ryan ran a wet stripe up his neck to his ear and Toby shivered as Ryan murmured, “Don’t worry. I know. I won’t leave any marks. And when Schillinger’s touching you, you can think about me and realize that no matter what Schillinger does, all he’s doing is touching the outside – the shell that he thinks belongs to him.

“But the real you? What’s inside,” Ryan put his hand on his chest, directly over Toby’s heart, “He can never touch that. He’ll never have the _real_ you, because that part can only be given away. Never taken.”

Toby stared into Ryan’s eyes, shocked that he understood so clearly what Toby had tried to convince himself was true for months now. Tried and failed miserably. He smiled. Maybe with a little help, he could come to believe it, after all.

He grabbed Ryan’s face and started kissing him hard – replacing the memory of Schillinger’s face and hands on his body with the taste of Ryan’s mouth. Eagerly pressing his body up against Ryan’s, he held on tight, molding himself to Ryan’s form, impressing the feel of Ryan’s body onto his skin – right through his clothes.

Suddenly he found himself on his back, looking up at Ryan in surprise as Ryan knelt over him on his hands and knees, straddling Toby’s body.

Ryan was flushed, his lips kiss swollen. “Is this okay with you? Can I – can I touch you?”

Toby had trouble finding his voice. He wanted to shout, “Hell yes!” but he didn’t want to scare Ryan off. Instead he nodded, wrapped his arms around Ryan’s shoulders and pulled him down, covering himself with Ryan’s thin, wiry form.

Toby liked the feel of him, lean but strong. He felt good pressed up against Toby, solid but not heavy. He didn’t try to explain that, because he’d have to take his tongue out of Ryan’s mouth first, and the only way that was going to happen was if Ryan stopped their kiss. And he had a strong suspicion that wasn’t going to be any time soon.

Toby got lost in the kisses; they went on for a really long time. He hadn’t checked to see what time it was when they came in, and he realized that he probably should say something about that, but he just couldn’t find it within himself to stop. It felt too good. It was the only good thing that had happened to him since he’d landed in Oz.

He was reluctant to break the spell, to invite something into the room with them that he felt had no place there. So he didn’t say a thing. Just let himself enjoy. Eventually, the way Ryan’s body was rubbing up against his own began to have an effect on other parts of his body, and he worried for a few moments that his physical reaction to the way Ryan’s hips were undulating against his might cause Ryan to back away and panic.

But then he realized that he wasn’t the only one who was reacting to the press of bodies and the heat of the friction of cloth on cloth. He wasn’t the only one responding to the slick warmth of their mouths and the way their tongues wound around each other. That was Ryan’s hard cock pressed up against his hip, and he shuddered and suddenly he needed more.

He spread his legs, letting Ryan settle more firmly between them. Pulling one knee up so that his foot was flat on the floor, he had a better angle to push up against Ryan. As Ryan’s body adjusted to his, their hard-ons rubbed together and they both gasped. Ryan pulled his head up, surprise on his face.

“Oh.”

“Oh? Oh, what?”

“Oh this.” And with that he pulled his upper body onto his elbows, moved his knees wider apart, and found better purchase on the slippery floor as he forced Toby’s legs even further apart. Ryan’s hips began to grind down against his own, and the increased pressure of the new angle sent a flash of heat through Toby’s body. His hard-on throbbed and he gasped in surprise.

“Oh!”

Ryan just laughed and bent his head back down, his tongue taking up residence in Toby’s mouth again. That was a good thing, because suddenly Toby couldn’t manage to keep quiet anymore, and he needed something to muffle his gasps and cries.

He wasn't sure he could keep this up for much longer before the friction caused him to just burst into flames, but it didn’t seem like he would need to, because Ryan pulled their mouths apart suddenly to take in a deep breath, and it sounded to Toby every bit as shaky as his own gasp for air.

“Oh God, Toby!”

Toby just laughed because he was past the point of talking – even past the point of yelling. It was taking every bit of his concentration just to keep pulling air into his lungs. He wrapped his arms tighter around Ryan’s shoulders and wrapped his legs around his waist as Ryan put on one more burst of speed.

He felt the tingle deep in the middle of his gut and in the center of his chest and it started to expand, spreading heat throughout his body. When he came he saw white sparks behind his eyes and a thought ran through his mind that he’d never come this hard in his life.

He didn’t realize he’d lifted his head away from the floor until it landed again with a solid thunk. After he thought about it for a moment he realized that it should have hurt, so he took a shaky breath and said, “Ow?”

Ryan laughed and rolled off him, landing rather solidly on the floor himself and he gave the word back to Toby. “Yeah. What you said. Ow.”

Ryan managed to sit up, looked at the spreading stain on his pants and expanded his vocabulary. “Shit.”

Toby couldn’t help but laugh. “Good thing today’s laundry day at my place. This will be cleaned up and neatly folded in my trunk before Schillinger even gets home from his hard day of harassing the mail room hacks.”

Ryan just repeated. “Shit.”

He grabbed a bunch of paper towels out of one of the open boxes of paper products and handed some over to Toby before he started to clean himself up. He threw away both handfuls of paper towels and stood above Toby, looking down at him with a self-satisfied grin on his face.

“What?”

“You are so bad.”

“Me? What did I do?”

“You tempted me, Beecher. All I wanted to do was think about all this. Try to figure out if I could do this – _anything_ with you.”

Toby grinned as he leaned back on his elbows to give him a better angle to peer up at Ryan. “Well, I think you got that part sorted out, don't you?”

“I guess so.” He went back down on his hands and knees next to Toby, and caught his mouth again in yet another kiss. “You’d think I’d be tired of kisses by now, wouldn’t you?”

Toby smiled at him. “Well I don’t know about you, but I don’t think that’s going to happen anytime soon.”

“No.” Ryan shook his head and smiled back at him. “Somehow I think you’re right about that.” He leaned in for another, and as he pulled back he nodded.

“Ah, yeah. That’s the ticket.”


End file.
